Merry Christmas Dutch
by Spacer Paste
Summary: Arthur and Dutch and Christmas Cheer...uh, I mean Smut. I know. I know. I outta be ashamed. My idea about posting this drabble, that I wrote almost two years ago, will-Somehow-get me writing again. I hope it works.


Dutch pushed his shoulder against the wooden door to shut out the storm and shuffled off his overcoat. Wasn't much warmer inside than out, but at least the godforsaken snow wasn't blowing in his face. A grimy fingernail flicked a match to flame and the oil lamp flickered to life.

Two fingers of whiskey from their dwindling stores and Dutch pulled the unfinished letter under the glow of the lamp.

_Be Not Alarmed, Madam, On Receiving This Letter_

_Mrs. Morgan_

_I hope this letter finds you in good circumstances. It's been a long winter out West, and I know you're hungry for news of your son. Arthur is doing very well. He's a good Christian boy, and you have every reason to take pride in his accomplishments. In fact, we made it through the winter due to his skills with a bow and arrow. Only a week ago, he dang near single-handedly rescued one of our crew and fought off a pack of hungry wolves to get the injured lad back camp._

_Yesterday, we infiltrated a camp full of bad men and discovered their plans to rob a train. Can you imagine robbing a train in this day and age? Anyway, your son thought the whole job looked a might suspicious. So I followed his lead, as I often do, and we boarded that train the very next morning._

_What we found on that there train does not bear repeating in polite company. I hope you'll forgive me, ma'am, for my next words, as they might prove a bit rough for your ears. Well, we took the dirty money the bad men hid on that train and, at your son's insistence; we distributed the money and food to the settlers in the local villages hit hard by the winter. Arthur's a good boy, and I love him like a brother, and I know it was you who raised him up that way._

_We move on this morning to warmer climes_

_Happy Christmas and Best Wishes for the New Year_

_Yours sincerely, Dutch van der Linde_

The door opened and a gust of wind-driven snow splattered ice and we snow over Dutch's back. "Shut the goddamn door! Can't a man have some privacy? Oh, it's you, Arthur.

He shrugged off his coat and poured himself a cup of the black mud that past for coffee. Arthur swallowed the boiling coffee in one gulp and peaked over Dutch's shoulder. With his back to the room, Dutch wrote quickly, his pen scratching the thick parchment.

"Why do you bother writing that shit, Dutch? Ain't nothing but a pack of lies."

"Your mother is a good woman, Arthur. And this ain't a pack of lies, it's exactly what happened."

After stripping off his gloves and tossing his hat on a worn chair, Arthur placed his hands on Dutch's shoulders.

"Jesus H. Christ, your hands are cold."

"You needed a distraction."

"Well, there are distractions, and there are distractions."

"If you don't mind, how about setting that pen down, so you don't end up explaining to that 'good woman' all about how I'm planning to warm my hands on that truncheon of yours."

"Aw, fuck…I ain't had a proper wash."

"Ain't neither of us had a proper wash...dirt and sweat and horse and it's just for me ain't it Dutch?"

"You know it is."

Arthur leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Dutch's dry lips. When Dutch tried to deepen the kiss, Arthur pulled away.

"'Sides you ain't got your Christmas present yet." Arthur pushed Dutch back against the chair and knelt between his knees. Then Arthur tossed back the last of the whiskey.

"Shit that's gonna burn."

"Yeah, I know," he said with a knowing grin and carefully pulled Dutch from the layers of his sweat-stained pants and long johns. "I got some work to do here, so how about you tell me about that summer's day in that creek. Washing each other and you eat'n me like you's starving."

Dutch wove his fingers into Arthur's shaggy hair. At the first touch of Arthur's warm mouth, Dutch shouted his name, then "Fuck!"

"That's for later, now tell me that story. You just keep talking." Arthur bent his head and swallowed Dutch until the short dark hair began to tickle his nose.

"You are such a good boy, Arthur." Dutch's words came out in a long sigh as he settled back in his chair.


End file.
